


Don't You Dare Be Late

by peggyrogers_barnes



Series: Marvel One-Shots [1]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Light Angst, Longing, Peggy Carter deserves the world, Post-Captain America: The First Avenger, She just loves steve so much I'm suffering, Steggy - Freeform, The Author Regrets Everything, even badass Agent Carter has her limits, heartbroken Peggy Carter, heartbroken author too tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 13:00:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14497524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peggyrogers_barnes/pseuds/peggyrogers_barnes
Summary: Peggy still goes to The Stork Club that Saturday night.Nobody has the heart to stop her.





	Don't You Dare Be Late

**Author's Note:**

  * For [For my go to Steve tinypearl32](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=For+my+go+to+Steve+tinypearl32).



> You can thank the deep anguish Infinity War gave me for me finally cleaning this old drabble up and posting it. Sometimes you just gotta channel the pain into sad little one shots, so I'm sorry. 
> 
> #justletsteverogersbehappy2kalways

It was Saturday.

Peggy, Howard, and the Howling Commandos had just finished another cleanup mission in the wake of Hydra's collapse. And everyone could see the deep seated sadness in the Englishwoman's eyes. 

As Howard emerged from the cockpit, Dugan gave Howard a concerned nod in Peggy's direction as she unbuckled her seat, tucking a small journal back into her mission pack, as if to tell him that he needed to go talk to her. He was her closest friend among them, and God, from the looks of the bags under her eyes meticulously covered with makeup, did she look like she needed a friend right now. 

"Peg, we're going dancing tonight! I'm flyin’ us to my favorite spot in Paris, nice quiet little spot on the left bank of the Seine. You want to come?"  
Howard's voice was genuine as he leaned against the planes frame beside her, the Commandos quickly bustling out and back to their barracks to change, disembarking from the bomber Howard had been piloting for this mission. He looked very tired, (the past week hadn't been easy on any of them), but spoke with forced good cheer. 

They were all trying so hard to act normal. All of them. They were doing it for their own sake, but very much for Peggy too. They couldn't imagine the grief she was going through, so they all put on happy faces and pretended as if nothing was the matter. She appreciated the gesture, truly, she did. 

But there was only so much she could pretend. 

Looking up at Howard as she stood, slinging her pack over her shoulder, she forced a smile.  
"Thank you for the offer, Howard, but I'm afraid I have a date tonight."  
A sudden pang of pain and realization hit him. He knew who she meant. And they both knew he wouldn't be there.  
But if this is what she needed, he would let her go.

"All right, English. Go. We'll see you when you come home."  
She nodded gratefully, gathering her coat over her knapsack.  
Her smile was sadder this time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peggy sat at the bar of the Stork Club.  
It was 7:50.  
She sat on a plush stool, ankles crossed daintily. There in her favorite red dress, beautiful brown locks curled around her face, red lipstick and red nails perfectly maintained, and her favorite red, heart shaped necklace completing the ensemble. She was the most stunning creature in the room. But she sat alone. 

As swing music blasted and mass amounts of people screamed, sang, and cheered over the sound, she nursed her 3rd drink of the night, a straight shot of bourbon on ice. It had been her brothers favorite drink, the first he'd given her when she turned 21 and he'd taken leave to come celebrate, and it tasted like home.  
It burned harder than she remembered, but she didn't care. That made her want it all the more.  
She'd been there since the club had opened at 6:30, smiling at the doorman who recognized her on sight, as he let her in with a returned one.  
Many, many men, and even some women, had tried to get her to dance with them tonight.  
They had all been sweet, all been charming. Many called her beautiful, many offered her drinks.  
She turned everyone down with a bittersweet smile, saying only, "I'm sorry, you're very sweet, but I'm waiting for someone."  
They all had been kind and understanding, backing down and wishing her a good night.  
She was so grateful that they were all so cordial tonight, she wasn't in the right mindset to deck anyone right now.  
She stared into the bottom of her shot glass with a heavy sigh, her shoulders slightly hunched as she stared at the amber liquid.  
Vinnie, the huge Italian bartender, leaned against the dark cherrywood bar, directly to her side, close enough to be heard, but far enough away that he wasn't invading her space. Nobody in their right mind would invade Peggy Carter’s personal bubble, drunk or sober. 

"This date of yours. When's he 'sposed to be here…?"  
"Less than 10 minutes from now, Vinnie." She replied, as calmly as she could, with a tight smile. 

"Peg…"  
He asked this uncertainly.  
"You sure he's comin'…?"  
Her eyes were starting mist over as she looked up at him from her drink, but the smile was still there.  
"I know he's coming. He has to be."  
Vinnie squeezed her hand closest to him, gave her a sad smile back, and walked to the next customer. 

It was 7:56.  
Peggy downed the remainders of the shot, sighing weakly as the room got quieter in her ears. She hadn't slept most of the week, and she was certain she was probably dehydrated. That didn't matter though.  
Vinnie gave her a side-eyed glance, worry clear on his face, but she barely registered it.  
There was something in her, some hopeful desperation that prayed both that 8:00 would happen soon, that'd he'd waltz through the door with that sideways grin that always made her heart swell.  
There was another part of her filled dread, that prayed that time would stop right now and 8:00 would never come.  
She stared off into the mirror behind the bar for a while. Watching people. Dreading and hoping at the same time.  
It was then, after a while of mindlessly staring, that she looked down at her watch again and saw it.  
8:00.  
She took a deep sigh, resting her head in her hands, when a large hand rested on her shoulder.  
She whipped around faster than she knew she could, her hair flying as she snapped up.  
Her eyes were wide with disbelief, hope, fear, and her heart was in her throat as she looked up at the figure standing behind her.  
But instead of seeing who she had prayed would somehow, miraculously come, promptly at 8, because her Steven was never ever late, especially not for her, she met eyes with Colonel Phillips, who looked sadder than she'd ever seen him. 

"I don't…I-I…I don't understand…"  
Peggy's voice was soft, as if she were speaking to herself, and it began to break, her eyes filling with tears, as she looked down and turned away from her commanding officer. 

Phillips sat down at the stool besides her, dressed, for the first time she'd seen it, in civilian clothes, a nice black suit, white shirt and tie. He looked almost like he was just a civilian too, but the aching understanding in his eyes was something she only saw in other active servicemen. 

"Now, Miss Carter, what are you doing here, all by yourself, on a Saturday night, no less…?"  
His voice was gentle. Saddened. As if he already knew.  
She could barely look up as she choked back tears, a few escaping to stream down her cheeks, as she tried so hard to smile. 

But after pretending for so long that night, that week, every single goddamn moment since that radio com had fizzled into static on that terrible night she tries to tell herself was just a horrid dream, despite her fully knowing the truth, she looked to him with nothing but pain in her eyes, heartbreak written all over her face, tears streaming as her voice cracked, broken.

"I had a date."

**Author's Note:**

> More one-shots on the way, most likely some Stucky and ScarletVision, and some real fluffy IronSpider cause I have so many feelings. I'm multi shipping trash and always open for suggestions, so comment anything you might wanna see below. <3


End file.
